


Death of Me

by WritingInAHoodie



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26120035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingInAHoodie/pseuds/WritingInAHoodie
Summary: Originally posted on my Tumblr @writing-in-a-hoodie
Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader
Kudos: 49





	Death of Me

Jason groaned, pain blooming in his right shoulder as he struggled to get his right arm into the sleeve of the white dress shirt. His teeth gritted together which filled the room with an awful sound. He couldn't believe that even though he was bruised and broken he still had to appear to the stupid event. 

Curse his dad being Bruce Wayne. 

His right arm hung slightly limp, attempting to dress with only his left arm, it wasn't going the greatest and even the slightest of movements made a wave of a pain flare up and make his jaw tighten. His left arm, although in better condition than his right arm, was still blue and purple, practically as useless. 

His eyes closed and he breathed deeply, his eyes danced down to the red silky tie that he was holding in between his teeth, and the box of cufflinks that was sitting on the table that was next to him. His shoulders slouched as he thought about tying a knot with his hands, knowing that he had to be at the event in about ten minutes.

Next time he was turning off all communications and hiding away in one of his safehouses when something came up, he would make sure to go incognito until it was over. He felt his anger rising when he saw a mirror out of the corner of his eyes and saw his injured state staring back at him. He rolled his neck and his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he tried to shimmy the sleeve up again.

He heard the clicking of heels outside of his room and shame-filled his cheeks as his movements stopped, he hated the fact that he could differ that pitch of clicking from any other walk in the world. He could hear the doorknob shift behind him, the old wooden door creaking when enough force was pushed against it to move it open. 

There were a few steps behind him before they stopped and Jason slightly hung his head. 

" Jason?" you asked from where you were behind him, your hand resting on the door frame. You blinked at the spots across his the backside of him. You took into account the way his shoulder blades and back were tensed up tightly. 

"Hey, doll," he responded, voice muffled by the tie and still fiddling with his dress shirt, trying to keep the red blaze on his cheeks down. 

"What do you think you're doing?" you asked, your tone lowering and tightening as you stepped to be in front of him.

"Getting dressed. We gotta be there, in like, five minutes," he said, his eyes flashing upwards to look at you in the eyes. He tried to not linger on the way that your dress fits you, and the way your hair looks so shiny and soft. For once he was glad the pain was there because then he didn't have to focus on you and inevitably make himself look like a fool.

"No, not that." you sighed, your lips pursed. He didn't like that disgruntled look, he always felt like he was about to get scolded. Instead, you walked forward and shuffled to the right of him, your fingers going towards his sleeve. 

His heart caught itself in his throat, and his bones practically melted at your proximity. He could feel your small and warm fingers through the fabric of the shirt, and sometimes if he was lucky your finger pads would brush up against his bare skin. 

You maneuvered the sleeve over his shoulder, rounding him to appear by his left. You gently worked his arm into the other one, trying not to injure him. He watched you with the utmost fascination, trying to keep all the feelings that were bundled up inside of his stomach in check.

You dragged your fingers down the front of it until you made sure the shirt was straight, he couldn't help but close his eyes at the feeling of your fingers sliding. 

He wondered if you knew what you were doing. 

Your fingers grabbed the left side of his shirt and deftly buttoned it up. You were focused on your work, but made sure not to raise your head to show Jason the small smirk that laid upon your lips. 

If he would lean down a couple of inches he could catch your lips in a kiss, he realized. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to press his lips against yours, your body fitting into his like a puzzle piece, and the way that from head to toe warmth filled him. 

Eventually, you were onto the last button on his collar, your digits brushing his neck far too often. He bit his tongue in his mouth to help diminish the urge to swiftly lock his right hand onto yours and press his lips to yours. You finished the button and gave his chest a little pat, swiping the suit jacket from the floor and standing behind him to assist him.

You then rotated around, his eyes tracking your moves. You fixed the lapels and the cuffs of the shirt underneath, and he spotted the mischievous smirk that was pulling your lips. He decided that he was going to turn the tides and steeled himself and set his mind straight.

Your hands swiped the tie from in between his teeth, thumbs brushing over the soft material. You looped the fabric around his neck and started tying the knot, Jason moved his arms downward, ignoring the way that it felt like he was being pelted with paintballs. He placed his large hands on your hips, feeling the heat through the fabric and reveling in the way that you stalled and your eyes widened. 

You smiled up at him and his heartbeat sped up slightly, you put his cufflinks in and stepped back away from him, which, in return made his hands slip off of your hips and back to his side. You observed him, from the black suit jacket to the dark red tie that you had tied perfectly, you nodded approvingly. 

He walked up to you, and you looked at him questioningly, before he placed his lips upon your cheek. Your skin lighting up pink even with the blush on your cheeks and he sent you a quick wink, and a, "Thank you, doll." before walking away and out the door.

This little game that the two of you were playing was going to be the death of you. 


End file.
